Irreplaceable An Anderson fic
by Daniella T
Summary: What if, in "The Galaxy Girls", Mala didn't want to blow up the Solar Express but to kidnap Anderson? The story begins when Anderson, drugged and knocked-out, wakes up on the transport that is taking him to Spectra.
1. Chapter 1

Irreplaceable – An Anderson fic

Usual disclaimers apply. Battle of the Planets belongs to Sandy Frank.

_Daniella says: _What if, in "The Galaxy Girls", Mala didn't want to blow up the Solar Express but to kidnap Anderson? The story begins when Anderson, drugged and knocked-out, wakes up on the transport that is taking him to Spectra. If you care about continuity, this takes place before "Strike at Spectra" and half-way through the Anderson-Sarah arc I am writing for Gatchamania, i.e. after they start spending time together but before they express their feelings openly.

Anderson could've done without the face looking down on him. A cruel, smiling face. He groaned, taking stock of his surroundings. Then he shook his head to clear it from the buzz that was ringing in his ears.

"Mala. To what do I owe the pleasure? And, to be more precise, where am I?"

"Anderson. Kudos for taking it so calmly. You're on a transport barge, on your way to Spectra. Have you been there before?" she asked conversationally.

"No, I'm afraid it wasn't part of my training," he said sarcastically.

"Good, good, I see you haven't lost your spirit."

"What I'm rapidly losing is my patience. Why am I here?"

Anderson realised the foolishness of this statement as soon as he had made it. Losing his patience? So what? He wasn't going to go anywhere, seeing how he was manacled to the bench. But he looked at Mala unblinkingly.

"Why you are here? Why do you think? They say you're a clever man. In fact, my brother thinks you are our most dangerous foe. More dangerous than those annoying teenagers you send to fight your Federation's wars."

"Those teenagers are actually winning the wars for the Federation," replied Anderson icily. "And, in any case, they are better than the cannon-fodder your brother sends to fight his wars!"

"They are proud and honoured to fight and die for Spectra!" snapped Mala.

"As if they had any choice!" snorted Anderson.

"I will not debate battle tactics with you, Anderson! For your information, you are being taken to Spectra. What will happen to you there will be decided by my brother!"

Anderson's face closed.

"You mean he will imprison and torture me."

"I mean exactly what I said. It's up to him. My job was to get you to Spectra."

"Don't you feel humiliated?" asked Anderson, looking at her. "Your brother doesn't trust you with plans?"

"If you are trying to annoy me, you will fail," Mala snapped again.

"Not at all. I'm just making an observation," Anderson said mildly.

Mala sat back in her chair, across the transport floor from where Anderson was sitting bolt uprights, but with his hands and legs cuffed to the bench.

"We still have some way to go. I suggest you try to enjoy the ride," she said.

"At your command, ma'am," said Anderson, relaxing his head on the wall behind him. It wouldn't hurt to indeed rest a bit before his kidnapping turned into a prisoner-of-war situation.

He must've dozed off, even without the help of the drug he had been administered before, for he woke up just as the barge was beginning its descent towards Spectra. He made to stretch his arms, then remembered in time that he was shackled. He limited his movements to twisting his stiff neck left and right.

"Welcome to Spectra!" said Mala triumphantly.

A welcoming committee had been set up. Green-clad foot soldiers, some officers in ceremonial garb with distinctive markings on their uniforms. Anderson counted a few colonels – if he translated their rank to its Earth equivalent – and a general. From the latter's uniform piping, he was in intelligence.

"So!" he thought. "My own counterpart!"

It was totally unwarranted, but he felt a surge of pride that the Spectrans valued him enough to send their big guns to meet him.

_To be continued_

_Reviews are always welcome!_


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Anderson looked around as he was led to the waiting Spectran contingent. Despite all his readings, all his intelligence work, he had never imagined Spectra to be so desolate, so desert-like...so...condemned. No wonder they wanted the Earth's resources...but too bad they didn't want to reach a peaceful arrangement. In the distance, he saw a tall, grey, tower-like building. It was the only building visible from where he was.

Mala saluted, and received a salute in return from the general of the Spectran intelligence services.

"I hand over the prisoner to you, General. He is now your responsibility. My brother expects him in his chambers as soon as the formalities are over."

"Aren't you going to introduce us, Mala?" asked Anderson. He couldn't stop himself. He knew he shouldn't be engaging with the enemy – Lord, he had written the manual on how to behave as a prisoner-of-war himself – but the temptation to be sarcastic was too strong.

As strong as the punch that landed in his middle. He gasped, doubled-over for a second, then pulled himself upright.

"General," started Mala, as if the punch had never happened, "this smart-ass is, as you know, Chief Anderson, ISO scientist and intelligence officer, and a major thorn in Spectra's side and in the side of our glorious leader, my brother. Prisoner Anderson, this is General Xirol, your, let's say, counterpart. Now that this pleasant interlude is over, take him!"

He was put in a vehicle and taken to the tower-like structure. Then, he and his captors marched through never-ending corridors, steel gleaming in the light of the overhead lamps, boots squeaking on the spotless floor. Anderson had read thousands of reports on the military headquarters of Zoltar and, in spite of himself, he was thrilled to be there, to see for himself, finally, how the Spectran military machine worked. Carefully, he filed away information in his head, to be used in his debriefing, in the unlikely event that he was rescued.

They stopped outside a featureless steel door. A small panel was attached to the wall next to it, and one of the goons removed his glove and pressed his open palm against it. The door opened.

Seated in a gilded chair, but with surprisingly little decoration around him – just a table that could've passed for a conference table on Earth, and a few straight-backed chairs – Zoltar looked up from the report he was reading.

From what he had seen in reports sent out by ISO agents on Spectra, and from his own experience with the various mecha commanders the ISO had, occasionally, captured – and the descriptions supplied by G-Force in their debriefings – Anderson had expected Zoltar to be a lightweight political leader, with a loose attitude, and a lack of seriousness. What he had seen until now, in the inner chambers of the Spectran leader, had shaken this opinion. It was shaken even more when Zoltar jumped up from his seat and rushed to greet the party – the ridiculous costume was there, but so was a serious, even sombre expression that had nothing to do with the frivolous image the ISO, the Federation and practically everyone had about Zoltar. Anderson silently congratulated him. A failed military commander, perhaps, but Zoltar was by no means the failed political leader everyone had assumed him to be.

Anderson pulled himself a bit straighter as Zoltar approached them, saluting the intelligence officer that was escorting Anderson. The Spectran leader was as tall as he was – Anderson could look him straight in the eye.

"Chief Anderson...finally in our hands. This is a great day for Spectra."

"If you wanted to speak to me, you could've sent a delegation. You know we don't harm diplomatic representatives," Anderson said woodenly.

"All in good time, Chief Anderson, all in good time. Certainly there will be a diplomatic representation visiting Earth. To conclude your surrender."

"You know this will never happened," said Anderson through clenched teeth.

"Ah yes, with you in charge, no. But how long do you think it will be until they replace you?"

The guards, at a gesture from Zoltar, pushed Anderson even closer to the Spectran leader.

Their faces inched apart, Anderson looked straight at Zoltar.

"You do know that you won't get anything out of me, no matter what methods you use," he whispered.

Zoltar looked at him in genuine surprise.

"Methods? You mean torture? My dear Chief Anderson, you are an ISO officer and a top agent. I know you'd never speak. I wouldn't dream of torturing you. And I won't need to, trust me."

And with those chilling words, Zoltar nodded to the goons, who marched Anderson out of the room.

The cell they took him to wasn't too bad. At least, it was better than those that had held captured ISO personnel in the past, personnel that had escaped to tell the tale. Spartan, but clean, it had a steel bench with a plain mattress, a sink, a toilet – Anderson gave silent thanks for that, at least he wouldn't have to ask the guards to be let to the loo –a chair. But Anderson could feel there was something wrong. He just couldn't put his finger on it. Then, suddenly, it dawned on him. There was nothing to read, and nothing to write with. He sighed. Perhaps Zoltar wanted to bore him into submission.

"I want G-Force to appear in my office – NOW!" President Kane shouted to his secretary.

"They are on their way, sir. They are finishing debriefing the ISO on the monorail incident."

"Great, maybe now they can debrief me also," he said, sotte voce. "Thank you," he added, more loudly, into his intercom.

A few moments later, a very subdued G-Force entered his office.

_To be continued._

_Reviews are always welcome!_


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Mark saluted formally, and stood in front of Kane's desk, while the others stood behind him. Almost like a bodyguard, Kane thought wryly. They are ready to protect their Commander if I try to put the blame on him for this sorry débâcle.

"Mr. President, the train carrying Chief Anderson was ambushed. Details are still sketchy, but we think that the operation was led by Mala, Zoltar's sister. Despite our efforts, and those of the ISO personnel who arrived on the scene, the Spectran attackers managed to escape, taking the Chief with them. According to existing intelligence, they are heading towards Spectra. You will have all this in writing as soon as possible We are ready to head out to Spectra as soon as you give the word."

Kane nodded thoughtfully.

"Thank you, Commander. It is unfortunate that Chief Anderson was captured, but we all know that this is always a possibility, where Spectra is concerned."

"Then we will be off immediately, sir," said Mark and he and his team turned to leave.

"Just a moment, Commander. Not so fast. Things are not as simple as they seem."

The team turned slowly, suspicion in their eyes. Was this going to be one of those cases where they would have to go off without permission?

"What do you mean, sir?"

"It seems pretty simple to us," added Jason. "Anderson is captured, we go rescue him."

"Did I give you permission to speak, Jason?" asked Kane, matching Jason's tone.

"No disrespect, sir," Mark cut in, before Jason could reply. "But we are concerned, as you understand."

Kane nodded towards a big mahogany conference table at the other side of the room.

"Take a seat, team."

He sat at the head of the table, with G-Force on his left and right.

"This is a confidential meeting. I don't have to tell you this, but I will anywat. No other ISO staff is to know of its contents - for the time being. Now, Chief Anderson is missing. That's the only hard piece of information we have. He may be kidnapped and currently a prisoner of war, or killed. We don't know. We haven't received a ransom demand. We haven't received a demand from Zoltar that we surrender, in exchange for Anderson's life."

"The Chief would never..." began Princess.

"I know that, Princess," said Kane tiredly. "I'm not saying Anderson would agree to this - or that he would even know about such a demand. But, still, this wouldn't stop Zoltar from making it. So where do we stand now?"

He looked at the team before continuing.

"Our security is seriously hampered by the fact that Anderson is missing. You are now that main line of our defence, operationally as well as strategically. So I'm ordering you - yes, it IS an order - to stay here, at least Anderson's replacement is appointed. Then it will be up to him or her to decide whether a rescue mission should be launched.

Five very upset teenagers looked around at each other. Then Mark, as if taking his cue from his team-mates, stood up.

"Excuse me, sir. What do you mean, Chief Anderson's replacement?"

"Just what I said, Commander," said Kane woodenly. "Surely you realise that Chief Anderson is not irreplaceable? We need to appoint his replacement as quickly as possible, someone who will take over temporarily the responsibility for our defence, until Anderson is back...or until the appointment becomes a permanent one. This is something that shouldn't concern G-Force. Your job is to follow orders and to implement the plans devised by the ISO defence department."

Jason opened his mouth to speak, but Tiny beat him to it.

"Yes, we know," he said softly. "We are the implementing instruments. Or, as they used to say, the pawns."

Mark kicked him under the table. Kane looked at them icily.

"Anyone got a problem with that? I know Chief Anderson let you some leeway where discipline is concerned - Jason snorted at that -but this doesn't mean that I - or Anderson's replacement - are willing to do the same."

"Understood, sir," said Mark, sending warning looks around the table. "What do you want us to do now?"

"Report back to Centre Neptune and maintain stand-by status. As soon as Anderson's replacement is appointed, you will be called for a briefing."

The team saluted and left. Kane caught Keyop whispering "poor Chief!" as he was leaving. Poor Chief indeed, he mused. And poor replacement, who would have to deal with Spectra, on the one hand, and a rebellious G-Force on the other. Still, there was nothing else to do. Sighing, he picked up the phone again, and instructed his secretary to call a session of the Federation Counci.

_To be continued._


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"So what do we do?" asked Princess as soon as they reached the common room and, subdued, detransmuted and flopped on the couch and chairs. Keyop sat cross-legged on the floor, close to Princess, who tousled his hair.

"Cheer up, Keyop. We'll get the Chief back."

"Yeah, as soon as those bastards in the Federation see reason," snarled Jason.

"Take it easy, Jason. They are right. We need to be here in case Spectra attacks again," said Tiny.

"Tiny's right," said Mark gloomily. "But, on the other hand, the longer it takes for us to to go after Anderson, the more difficult it will be to find him and free him."

"What...we wait for?" sputtered Keyop.

"Well, I guess the ISO needs confirmation that Anderson is, indeed, on Spectra and also needs to prepare our defence systems to deal with a possible attack while we're off to Spectra to rescue him," said Mark.

"Great, and while we're at it, Anderson is a prisoner and the Earth is a hostage to Zoltar's every whim!" said Jason angrily. "What do you bet we will soon get a message ordering the Earth to surrender?"

"No, you're wrong," said Princess. "That's exactly what Kane meant. We need to stay here so as _not_ to let the Earth become a hostage to Zoltar."

"Yeah? And what about Anderson? We are abandoning him, guys! In enemy hands! You know what this means? Now, I don't know about you, but I'm not ready to let a team member – yes, I consider the Chief to be a part of the team, much as he's a pain most of the time – in enemy hands!"

Jason's cheeks were flushed as he spoke and he clenched his fists. Mark patted him on the shoulder.

"Let's wait a bit to see what intel we get, and what the Chief's temporary replacement will say."

Feeling none too reassured, they went back to training, waiting for the Federation Council to decide.

After inconclusive discussions – punctuated by a passionate plea by the young Rigan delegate, Andrea, in favour of an immediate strike at Spectra to rescue Anderson – Kane called for a vote on the Chief's replacement. Five candidates, three women and two men, were put forward, all of them top ISO scientists with experience in defence matters. The vote settled on Dr. Miroslav Markic, who had worked with Anderson on devising enhancements for G-Force's uniforms that would prevent incidents such as that which had occurred when Zoltar managed to create a double of Princess by using her shoe.

Markic was a slight young man with long hair, and a prematurely lined face. He stumbled to the front of the room when the results of the vote became known. President Kane presented the new – temporary, as he stressed – Chief and Miroslav found himself under the scrutiny of the Federation delegates. After a few words by Kane on the importance of the mission he was undertaking, it was time for him to meet G-Force.

They were in the ready room, resting after a morning of training, when Zark's voice came over the intercom.

"Attention, team!"

"Ears on, Zark!" replied Mark, jumping up from the couch.

"The meeting of the Federation Council is over. A replacement to Chief Anderson has been appointed."

They became instantly more alert at that. Jason put his feet off the table. Princess and Keyop exchanged worried looks. Only Tiny looked still calm and unperturbed.

"It was decided that Dr. Miroslav Markic will be acting Chief until Chief Anderson returns," continued Zark, his impassive robotic voice grating on the nerves of the members of G-Force. "You are to meet with him now."

"Understood, Zark. We're on our way."

As Zark disappeared from the intercom, Mark turned to his team-mates.

"Well, it could be worse. At least, Miroslav is a good scientist."

"Let's wait a bit until we jump to conclusions about how good he is," said Jason.

"Give the man a break, Jason," sighed Princess as they headed down the corridor.

"I will. As soon as he gives us the word to go after Anderson."

"I'm coming...with you!" piped Keyop enthusiastically.

Mark caught Princess's gaze. She also looked worried about a possible showdown with the new Chief, almost before the man could take up his office.

_To be continued._


End file.
